if you happen to find me
by talk of michelangelo
Summary: will you catch me this time? former title: i hate you so much.


**

* * *

**

Disclaimer:

no sorry, i don't own naruto. \3

thank you for clicking on this. i know you clicked on it, because you can read this.

know what, don't mind me, i'm just weird. : )

i hope you stay long enough to read two lines down, where the story starts. it would make my day.

* * *

"I hate you so much."

Maybe, if he hadn't run, then Ino wouldn't be saying that to him, with those blue eyes burning -- contradictory as she always is. But he ran, and she says it to him as she brushes past him, her face held high. He lifts his gaze quietly to face her, and her nose is in the air haughtily, but the one eye he could see looks down at him. He flinches and wants so desperately to just grab her hand roughly and spin her around; ask her what right she has to make him feel so hopeless and disgusting.

But he doesn't. He watches her go. The retreat of her back is final, a Sayonara. Quietly, he realizes this really was a goodbye, in four words more than necessary. Of course, Kiba will go by later, because he hates goodbyes so much, so, so much.

_I hate you so much_. The words burn, and his eyes burn, but he scrubs at them with a swipe of the back of his calloused hand and goes along on his way because he is prideful and stubborn, the same as her, and he won't admit that this mistake is his.

Maybe that's a mistake, too.

* * *

The flowers are wilting, Ino notices dryly. When she touches a sunflower petal, it falls to the floor dejectedly. She picks it up gently and kisses it before she throws it into the garbage can. The bell at the door chimes, and she whips around blindly.

"Hello, what can I do for you to --" Kiba. Her fingers struggle to find their way to the counter, just as long as she can grip something without breaking it. Along the way, the normal grace in her hands turns rough, and she shoves a vase off the counter. It shatters explosively on the floor between them, and even before she realizes it, Kiba does.

"There's a cut on your leg." His voice is detached. She glares at him as she goes to get the first-aid kit. With all the luck she's been having lately, it isn't there; no, somehow, with that weird animal speed he has, Kiba's gotten to it first.

_(stop being so fast can't you see i hate you why won't you let me off look at me when you talk eff this, she thinks.)_

"Sit down." He commands, taking a deep breath as he looks nonchalantly at the bloody mess on her pale leg.

"Where?"

"On a chair, or something, dumbass."

"Who's the dumbass? It's a flower shop, not a fucking furniture shop." Her remarks are biting.

He says unaffectedly, "On the counter, then."

"Fuck you." She slips onto the counter; first hands, then bottom.

"You want to." Ino growls under her breath, but Kiba just_ has_ to notice, and he smirks wolfishly as he lifts her legs and wraps them flush around him. The cut is near her knee, and for some deranged reason, even though he's done all that to her, all she wants to do is wrap her arms around his neck and have him stand there, letting her hold him. But she doesn't let herself give into it, and instead, even as her hands shake, still gripping onto the counter now, she only watches him apply that stinging alcohol.

_(don't stand there don't make me sit here the customers the customers oh God what if someone walks in it's like kinky sex and oh God it's --, she thinks.)_

"Mmssh," she hisses, biting her lip. He cocks his brow amusedly, but continues to rub the alcohol in. By now, Ino has given up. Didn't she tell him to eff off a while ago? That she hates him with all her being and she never wants to see him again? Kiba is dense. She closes her eyes in surrender, and only jumps when she feels something flutter onto her thigh. She looks down and her face is instantly red. A kiss. He's always sexual like that. He smiles bitterly at her as he leaves,

"By the way, you're out of bandages."

She scowls when she's figured out that it's a shred of his shirt he's tied around her leg. Of two things she is certain: He's so rude when he's sweet; and he's known from the start that she will follow.

_(you're stupid i hate you so much why do you have to be so damn stupid how do you know i'll follow damn it why're you so smart, she thinks.)_

* * *

"Hey, dog," She calls out, sprinting, but not out of breath yet. Her leg aches from the tender, ripped skin having to move whenever she takes a step. He turns around, and stops his swaggering walk to let her catch up. "I hate you."

His stomach drops a little lower (as do his pants), but he doesn't let her see that ugly expression on his face. "And ... ?"

"Thank you." Ino is begrudged to have to thank him, but it's not that thing he's noticed. It's the blood trickling down her lower leg.

"Are you for serious? You reopened the cut coming here?" His concern is edgy, but it's there. Ino turns red, and it's almost endearing. "I thought you hated me. You shouldn't be troublesome, coming here just to thank me."

"Well, I'm _sorry_ if I wanted to be decent to you!" Instantly, she flares and explodes. "But maybe I _like_ being troublesome, okay, maybe I _like_ being hurt! Maybe I'm just some gross masochistic -- masochistic -- thing!" Her vocabulary always gets a little strange when she's this cross at him, but he doesn't say a word, just looks at her for a sparing moment, and then he shoves her back into the wall behind her.

She hates him, he knows, but nothing right now can stop him from this weird lust. It's those burning eyes, he swears. Blue and brown never went well together. When he looks at her from only an inch away , though, her eyes turn out not to be blue. They're a weird metallic teal, and they're fearful and angry and crazy and full of despair. He looks a little farther past that, and he sees that one thing that eggs him on: That want that's the same as his, as much as she 'hates' him.

Teal and brown, matched up right against each other. He kisses her neck instead, and his hands spring off the wall. As he swaggers away, he looks back only once, and she's still there, clinging to the wall and touching the kiss. He smiles gingerly before he heads home.

_(annoying swaggering walk i hate you so much i hate you i hate you don't kiss me anymore like you did before so many times before damnit, she thinks.)_

* * *

Kiba finds her at the playground, and she sits on top of the monkey-bars casually, staring at him.

"You found me," she says matter-of-factly, with a hard edge to her tone.

"I always do," he shoots back. "Come down."

"No, no, no. I hate you so much." By now, her declarations of hate are only ritual, and he doesn't know just how much she hates him anymore. He's tired of them, and she's tired of saying it.

"I know." A few moments pass, and she sits on the monkey-bars and he stands in front of her with his hands shoved into his pant pockets.

_(good Lord stupid dog boy lowriding isn't cool pull them up have i ever told you i hate you you're making my feet ache and my heart break and it's so fucking cliché, she thinks.)_

"How much do you hate me?" He asks quietly now, and it's not like him because he's loud and rough and playful and this isn't him at all. There's hurt in his tone, ready to show itself only when she's not looking.

"I don't know anymore," she says thoughtfully. She can't bear to hate him anymore. It's only because she's been losing sleep over it, not because she loves him, or anything.

"Do you hate me?" The sorrow is seeping out.

"I -- You'll run again, and you won't come back this time." She doesn't answer him, and he knows it. It's a guilt trip, and she's gotten really good at those over the years. He shuffles his feet and looks at the ground.

"Let's put it this way, then. If I told you I don't hate you," she pauses, but he can't really tell because she's speaking so slowly and he wants her to hurry up, "If I told you that, if I told you I was going to fall for you ... would you, you know, catch me?" Her voice becomes small at the end. Fall for him? She's already done that, so hard, and he knows it. Another silence ensues as he stares at her and she stares at her lap as if it's sprouting beans.

_(just say something why are you quiet i need to hear you just say something i don't hate you anymore just say no say it, she thinks.)_

"There aren't any guarantees," He says finally, grinning roguishly at her. His arms are open, contradicting that there aren't any 100% chances he will catch her like he says, because no matter what, even if it's just a secret, he'll catch her this time.

She doesn't know it.

She falls anyways.


End file.
